Chapter 2

Sings Above The Mountains slid back onto the coffee table in front of his sofa. The small female human lay sleeping, it's breathing more regular and quiet. The repaired body was now able to rest and function comfortably. He shook his head slightly as he recalled the amount of Heal, Clean, Seal, Cool, and then all the Smooth he used to fix the skinny little body. Fortunately, he happened to have Bone to repair any potential internal rib fractures. He'd been a little surprised at the level of muscular development in the willowy frame, but also a bit concerned at the very low level of normal underlying female body fat. The biggest shock was the size and infected nature of the gash in the left thigh.

As good as it was going to get for the moment, he thought to himself as he glanced at the human, now clad only in its worn and grimy underwear. The small face was now blemish free and clean as was the rest of its pale skin. The hair had been a problem; he did his best to clean it, providing some improvement. He tucked the clean sheet around it gently and then laid a light blanket over it. He stood and scooped up the torn, filthy, blood stained jeans and equally disgusting dirty, milk-soiled shirt, plus the washcloth and towel he had used to wash away the dirt, sweat, and dried blood after the healing was complete. They all ended up in the washer in the laundry room. He grabbed the holey socks where he had left them on top of the tattered sneakers and tossed them in the trash.

Standing in the kitchen, hands on his hips he took in the various packages, containers, and the now empty milk carton laying about. All provided grim evidence of the poor creature's desperate search for food. A short time spent cleaning up the mess returned his kitchen to its earlier state of basic cleanliness. Following that chore, he retrieved his Cheetos from beside the porch along with the tattered backpack. After moving the clothes from the washer to the dryer, he was back in the kitchen eating his evening meal while contemplating the situation. He knew the right thing to do: call the seekers in the morning and they would take it away. He also knew he was procrastinating. It isn't as though they only worked nine to five. One call now and someone would be here. Flame Tender, more than likely, would probably be here in minutes. Pompous ass … his host memory provided the description. For a moment, his mind questioned the non soul like terminology popping up out of his host memories. It seemed to be happening more often, but he dismissed the concern as his moral musing continued. Why was he waiting? Delaying the inevitable? Was he feeling pity for the poor thing? Was that all?

He had been a healer on his last world - Singing World. He was a Healer at heart, his true calling. He didn't agree with the new policy of discarding adult wild humans, but understood the reasons for the change. There were so few wild humans found that he hadn't been much concerned by the issue. Now, the moral dilemma slept peacefully on his sofa. He knew his call would be a death sentence for it. The thought just … bothered him. A deep seeded gnawing at his conscious. He sat and stared out the door, agonizing over the problem. Fine, he decided in the morning he would let it go. He knew it was wrong, but he just couldn't be the cause of its death.

When he completed his evening preparations for bed, he checked on it. The human continued to sleep peacefully. He decided another tiny square of No Pain would ensure it was comfortable during the night. Then a large spray of sleep would guarantee it wouldn't wake anytime before morning. The last thing he wanted was the potential disaster of it waking during the night and in its panic unleashing unknown destruction to his home. He was sure his host body was much stronger than its small weak body, but he could barely imagine defending himself from it much less physically restraining or harming it.

Strawberries? Why did she smell strawberries? Sarah's brain was almost instantly awake and aware. Where was she … how … her eyes shot open and the first thing she saw was it? Oh, crap, son of a bitch. She struggled at the covering holding her down as her eyes raked around the room, then back to it. She heard the words … wait, talk, help, hurt. Ignoring it all, she spied the opening and the kitchen beyond and was up, staggering over the arm of the sofa, out through the opening into the kitchen and out the screen door. Fanatic pleading words were shouted behind her. Reaching the bottom step, she was off across the field.

"Ouch … crap … euu … shit … what the f..." and other vibrant terminology spurted from her mouth as small, sharp, stinging pain stabbed at the soles of her feet as she ran toward the tree line. She realized her feet were bare … where the hell was her sneakers?

"Shit, damn it…" a pointed rock to her left heel caused more descriptive swearing to be tossed out into the atmosphere as she slowed to a jogging one legged hop as she reached the first tree. Turning to see if it was chasing her, she was surprised to see the thing just standing on the porch watching her. She came to a halt at the next bigger tree, leaned against it for a second to catch her breath and then quickly turned to see what it was doing. As she stared across the field, she was stunned to see it run its hand through its hair, shrug its shoulders and finally put its hands on its hips as it stared back at her.

Sings Above The Mountains stood on his porch and looked across the field as the small human finally stopped, turned, and looked back at him. 'Jeez, that didn't go well…' he thought to himself as his host memories offered up a list of much more descriptive terms to describe the event. At that moment, it occurred to him that the human had run off so fast it had nothing with it. The clothes were still neatly folded on the coffee table where he had left them last night along with the new pair of thick soft socks he had provided. Oatmeal he had prepared for breakfast simmered on the stove. He turned and went back into the house to get the clothing, thinking he would leave them on the porch for it. Hopefully, it would return when it realized the clothing was left behind in its panic.

As Sarah watched, she was puzzled by the lack of a chase. It turned and went into the house. She now had a second to begin to assess her situation. Nothing hurt? She glanced down to her leg and … holy shit, where were her clothes? Why was she just in her underwear? She quickly stepped behind the tree as thoughts whirled in her head. Embarrassment, infuriation and madden incense consolidated into raging anger as she leaned out around the tree. "Fuckin' perverted son of bitch!" she screamed across the field to the house.

Sings Above The Mountains had gotten to the small pile of clothing in the living room, when he thought he heard something. Pausing a second, he listened, Must be my imagination, he determined and shrugged. Back in the kitchen, he got two plastic bowls, a couple of spoons and the pot of warm oatmeal and started for the door with the clothing under his arm. At the last second, he grabbed the Cheetos bag and was soon back out on the porch. He glanced out across the open space and didn't see the small human. Where did it go? Well, he thought, I'll just sit, eat breakfast and wait. Maybe it'll return shortly. It was going to want its clothing. The early morning air had the feel of early autumn.

Sarah leaned her head against the tree. "Fuckin' bug-ass son of bitch … why? What the f… "Her torrent of swears continued in her frustration as this new and greater predicament clarified in her mind. She had nothing now; the shit-for-brains bug had her clothes, her damn backpack and some of her few meager belongings. She banged her fist against the tree and grimaced at the minor pain. At that point her brain kicked in with a difference realization. Again, she thought, nothing hurt, why? She stepped back and looked down at herself. Shock came over her face and she searched her body for any cut, scrape, or bruise … a mark of any kind. Nothing! Where was the gash? She vaguely remembered falling from the porch and the pain, but no injuries from that? She tentatively stretched and twisted her body, testing. No pain, except for her feet from the fucking rocks, branches, and shit in the field she had just run across. To her relief, she didn't feel anything out of the ordinary where the perverted asshole may have … she didn't even want to go there. How long was she out? She glanced around, it looked like early morning. What did the damn bug do to her? What fucking damn bug drugs did it give her? She looked back around the tree and was stunned to see it sitting on the top step with her clothes in its lap.

Sings Above The Mountains was relieved to finally see the human poke her head around the tree. Even at this distance, he thought he saw surprise on the face. He raised the clothing up in front of him and beckoned to it. Nothing, just the continued stare … no, she raised her hand in a small fist, but with just the middle finger extended. What could that mean? His host memory then provided translation. He was shocked. More host memories seemed to interpreter the gesture coming from a small female in the current situation with some level of amusement. He dismissed the memories as inappropriate human behavior. He still wasn't sure how to judge the action. He had an idea. He raised the bag of Cheetos, pointed to them and beckoned her again with his hand.

"Asshole," she muttered as she shivered in the chill morning air. She was pissed, but her rational side finally kicked in. She had to get her clothes, backpack with her stuff, and maybe even food. She wouldn't survive long without her clothes and more food. What was his deal? Why was she all healthy and no bug in her head? He must have fixed her up. How? Why? There must have been plenty of time for him to do whatever he wanted with her. Why didn't he call the seekers? Why was he just sitting there with a dumbass smile on his face … fuck! This was stupid. He obviously didn't plan on chasing her. He'd probably easily catch her if he wanted. Especially, given she didn't have her sneakers, just bare feet. Smug-ass son of a bitch … Her mouth watered as she stared at the Cheetos. Oh, fuck, if this is it she did not intend to go gentle into that good night. At that she stepped out from behind the tree and launched herself back across the field to the house.

He had put down the bag to check on the oatmeal and fiddle with the assorted things laid out around him. When he looked up again he was shocked to see the human striding toward him. Seeing the look on the small face as it got closer, he was suddenly a little apprehensive. He had never talked to a wild human before. All he knew about them was what the seekers said and that was scary. He hoped that maybe they exaggerated or because it was small and female it would be less aggressive. However, the narrowed eyes, grim line to its mouth and aggressive march toward him did not bode well.